Evil is Just a Title
by NotJustAMuggle
Summary: Another light is shed on the Malfoys as Draco remembers his past, a side that is not as evil as most people believe.


"My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall," Draco heard Severus Snape say to Lord Voldemort. They were all seated around the dining room table at Malfoy Manor. Above them hung the unconscious body of Professor Burbage. Draco could no longer pay attention. The topic never changed at these meetings; it was always about how to kill Harry Potter.

Draco eased his boredom by looking around at other people seated at the table. His Aunt Bellatrix looked devotedly at Voldemort, as if the words that came from his mouth were as valuable as galleons. Her years at Azkaban had only increased her insanity. He looked at Snape, who was talking with Voldemort, arguing his case that the information he heard surrounding the transportation of Harry Potter was more liable than Yaxley's. Voldemort easily believed Snape; he trusted him. Snape reminded Draco of a serpent, cunning and deceitful. He had a look on his face that some would proclaim as haughty, but Draco saw something different. He wasn't sure what it was; it was just different. Finally, Draco looked at his father. He was merely the shell of the man Draco once knew. His long blonde hair, that his father once took care of with such pride, was wispy and unkept, strands of silver streaking through it like comets. His face was unshaven, the dark shadow emphasizing how gaunt he had become. His eyes had bags that hung off of them, giving him a permanently sad and tired look. Draco's mind slipped to another time, a better time, when his father was in his prime. It was when Draco was younger, a few years after Voldemort had been defeated, and the Malfoy family thought that their evil past was hidden for good.

"_Daddy, make it come back!" the young Draco exclaimed to his father, pointing a pale finger at his dad's wand. _

"_One last time, Draco," Lucius said as he waved his wand, issuing a luminescent peacock from its tip. The peacock strutted around the room, and Draco leapt off the chair he was sitting on to chase it. The peacock stayed just out of Draco's grasp, and before he had a chance to take hold of it with his little hands, it vanished into thin air. _

"_My turn," Draco said, running over to his father and reaching for his wand. Lucius put the wand back in his cane. _

"_Sorry, Draco, you will have to wait until you get to Hogwarts, so that you can get your own wand and learn all sorts of spells." _

"_And I'll be in Slytherin House, just like you!"_

"_You might be. Slytherin House is good, despite the rumors," Lucius held his hands out and Draco came to sit on his lap, "but I hope you know, Draco, that your mother and I will always love you, no matter what house you end up in. We have all made mistakes in the past, son, and my hopes for you are that you are that you don't make the same mistakes I did. We are starting fresh. Those mistakes are in the past. I work for the Ministry now, and it shall take time, but someday people might forget whose side I was on." By the end of his speech, Lucius was talking more to himself than Draco. Draco, being too young to understand his father, simply smiled. _

"_I love you, Daddy," Draco said, planting a kiss softly on Lucius's cheek._

"_I love you too, son."_

Draco was jolted back into reality by the sound of Voldemort speaking his name. He looked around in fear. Had he missed something important? He looked at his father, who was staring at his lap. A small shake of his mother's head told him it was nothing to comment upon.

Voldemort carried on talking, having a laugh at the Malfoy's expense. Draco felt anger surge through his body. Before him sat the man, if you can call him that, that destroyed his father. His father had been happy for a brief period of time. The peacock, a patronus, can only be cast by a person who has happy memories. Then Voldemort came back. Those happy memories had disappeared into thin air much like the patronus itself. Maybe that's why his father still kept peacocks in their lawn. They reminded him of a better time, when he was able to think of happy thoughts.

His father had returned to Voldemort's side, but not because he felt any loyalty towards the man. Lucius, having seen the many horrors this dark wizard had inflicted on other families, rejoined Voldemort out of fear. Fear for his wife's life, and fear for Draco's.

Voldemort killed Charity Burbage, and her body thumped heavily on the floor. Draco struggled to keep his emotions to himself. How he wished to leap out of his chair, to inflict pain on the man who had inflicted so much pain on his family. He knew better, though. He would be dead before he pull out his wand. So Draco remained seated, and hoped, against all odds, that Harry Potter won this war.


End file.
